The Door at the End of the Hallway
by TolkienScholar
Summary: Oneshot. Movie!Verse. It was the door at the end of the hallway that really frightened Claire. She knew what was behind it, although Miss Peregrine had refused to let her see it. Victor was in there. And yet, in a way, he was not.


**Written for darkaccalia520's Disney Song Challenge at Writer's Anonymous. The song I chose was "Brazzle Dazzle Day" from** _ **Pete's Dragon**_ **. Also fits the Caesar's Palace Prompts Emotions Challenge Prompt 07: Playful.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own** _ **Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children.**_ **No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

The right third floor hallway was a terrible place. There was nothing on this earth that could have tempted Claire to go down it: not candy, nor dolls, nor anything else. If ever she had to climb those stairs, she'd skitter past the hallway opening as fast as her stockinged little legs could carry her.

The first horror, just at the beginning of the hallway, was Enoch's room. Claire had been in there once, a long time ago, but she'd managed to suppress most of the memory. All she recalled were lots and lots of jars full of dead things and a stench that had made her want to be sick. She'd never crossed the threshold again.

The second room was Horace's. She'd been there a few times, before… before the room at the end of the hallway had become such a place of dread. But she'd never gone by choice, and she didn't mind if she never went there again. Perhaps ugly, scratchy boy's clothes weren't as unpleasant as jars of dead things, but they weren't exactly interesting, either.

But it was the door at the end of the hallway that really frightened her. She knew what was behind it, although Miss Peregrine had refused to let her see it. Victor was in there. And yet, in a way, he was not. He wasn't there for her and Bronwyn to go snuggle with in the early morning hours when no one else was awake, and the floor was cold under her bare feet but his bed was oh, so warm under the blankets. He wasn't there to hold her when she got a sliver in her finger and Enoch had to use his surgical tools to pick it out while she buried her face in Victor's shoulder until he said it was all over. He wasn't there to take a dreadfully boring morning and turn it into a Brazzle Dazzle Day…

* * *

The cheerful whistling, obviously Victor's, was an unwelcome sound on this particular morning. The younger children exchanged dull glances across the sunny grass, and Twin #2 petulantly stuck his fingers in his ears.

At last Victor came around the corner and drew up short. "Why the long faces?" he asked, frowning at the seven children sprawled listlessly on the grass.

"There's not a single thing on this whole blooming island to do," Millard complained, and the other children murmured agreement.

Victor took a seat on the grass by Bronwyn. "Not a single thing?" he asked.

They shook their heads.

"You mean to say you've finished recording everything that happens in the village in our loop, Millard?"

Millard sighed. "No, but I don't _feel_ like working on my book today."

"Hmm," said Victor. "Fiona, you don't want to make a new animal… bush… thingy?"

"Topiary," Fiona said, rolling her eyes. "And there's no room for any more in the garden without it getting in the way of Millard and Hugh's football games."

"Hmm." Victor looked at Hugh. "What about you? Not up for football today?"

Hugh shook his head.

"Hmm," Victor said again. The other children looked at him sourly, wishing he would just go away and let them be miserable in peace.

"Well, I think you're missing a marvellous opportunity," Victor said at last.

"What opportunity?" Millard snapped.

"Today, of course!" Victor replied. "Don't you know it's a Brazzle Dazzle Day?"

"A what?" Claire and Bronwyn asked in unison. Millard groaned.

"A Brazzle Dazzle Day. It's the sort of day when you can cram a whole lifetime of fun into just a few hours."

Bronwyn scooted closer to him and placed both hands on his knee, her eyebrows drawn together in a serious expression. "How do you do that?"

Victor got to his feet. "Come on! I'll show you!"

The other children stood and followed him, curious, though Millard only with considerable grumbling.

A request for permission from Miss Peregrine and eight sets of bathing clothes later, the little troop set off. The three girls were all riding on Victor's back, Fiona and Bronwyn on either side with their legs both wrapped around his middle and their hands clinging to his chest and shoulders, with Claire perched up high with her legs on either side of his neck. The Twins were sharing the load of the picnic basket, while Hugh carried the towels and Millard brought up the rear, bits of his legs and arms opaquely visible where the suntan lotion hadn't quite rubbed in. He had long ago learned the hard way that being invisible didn't protect one from sunburns.

Suddenly Victor began a song, and the others quickly joined in, except for the Twins, who never spoke, and Millard, who was still sulking. The sun was warm on their skin, and though the ground was in many places rocky, Victor was always watchful to make sure no one fell, and between his easy gait and his Peculiar strength, the girls had a comfortable ride on his back.

At last they reached the seaside and spread out their towels on the sand.

"Very well, Victor," said Millard. "We're at the seaside, but we've been here before. What makes this particular day so razzle dazzle?"

"Brazzle Dazzle," Victor corrected, "and I was just getting to that."

And with that, he picked Millard up, ran with him into the water, and gave the invisible boy a dunking.

Millard came up spluttering to the sounds of laughter back on the beach. Tensing his muscles, he lunged and knocked the bigger boy onto his rear end in the water.

Within moments, Hugh had joined in the scuffle, and then the girls and even the Twins. The sunlit air was filled with shrieks and giggles, and soon every foul mood, including Millard's, had vanished. After the water fight, some of the children swam while others built sandcastles, and after lunch, they all tried to bury Victor under the sand. By the time the sun started sinking into the ocean and the children were packed up and headed for home, they were all quite exhausted in the most delightful way.

"Victor," Claire asked as she held his hand on the journey back, "if it's always the same day in our loop, over and over and over, then shouldn't every day be a Brazzle Dazzle Day?"

In the twilight, she could only just see him wink at her. "Who says it isn't, Claire?" he replied. "Who says it isn't?"

* * *

No, Victor wasn't there anymore, not really. His body was, but he wasn't, and the room where he lay felt mysterious and frightening because of it. There had been a lot of good days since he went away, but there'd never been another Brazzle Dazzle Day. It was like, wherever he'd gone, he'd taken so much of the fun with him that there wasn't enough left to make one.


End file.
